


Retribution

by rusope



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasy, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-01-06 14:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusope/pseuds/rusope
Summary: A story about Varus, the Arrow of Retribution. Follow along as the protagonist (an OC human) happens to meet the archer with the dramatic red scarf and, as the story unfolds, delves deeper and deeper into the abyss of the Darkin's soul.





	1. In the woods

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Vergeltung](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18395486) by [rusope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusope/pseuds/rusope). 



> Disclaimer: English is NOT my first language! But I wanted to make my story available to a wider audience. Please pardon grammar errors and baby language. I try my best to deliver an acceptable piece of literature but I have my limits ^^ Original language is German.

Wilderness. Days after I had conquered the Argent Mountains, I still found myself in a seemingly endless no-man's land covered in deep green forests morning after morning. I was sure, by now I had left the ever-expanding boundaries of Noxus behind me. Nevertheless, Demacia still had to be miles away.  
Of course, I was not so foolish as to assume that I would not meet anyone here. In light-wooded valleys and plains, isolated peasants and ranchers lived with their families and clans. From time to time they were friendly enough to give me a shelter, sometimes even a hot meal. But I rarely had the pleasure. Most of the time I wandered alone through dense forests, always on my guard. Noxian scouts as well as factionless - and unscrupulous - thieves could lurk everywhere. Just as dangerous, if not more dangerous, was the wildlife. In the shadows, between rocks, in the water. Danger was constantly threatening, and I made progress accordingly. I barely put my bow down, and day by day I hoped that the arrows would not go out. At least I never lacked meat though. What I killed in self-defense helped me - decently fried over my daily campfire - keeping my strength and fighting on the next day, and the day after that. A human, however, can only eat a wolf so many times before the pungent wild taste of the slightly sinewy flesh gets old. I longed for bread. Yes, pastry was what I missed most out here. The smell of a freshly baked loaf of bread, still half warm, its wonderfully crisp crust and the soft interior. My mouth was watering as I imagined it, and I had to force myself to turn my mind to less appetizing things. My fingers brushed the leaves of lush bushes, and to distract myself, I wondered what names the people living here had given to the plants.  
But I had been too careless. Was it the bread or the bush, it did not matter; someone had approached silently.  
“You.”  
It was all he said. The voice of a man, but it sounded strangely distorted, not fully human. And not very friendly. This couldn’t be anything good, and I turned around slowly. My senses were alarmed, I was hyper aware of every detail around me. The thickly growing bushes to my right. The elastic, partly moss-covered ground under my feet. Thin tree trunks. The flutter of a little bird. No cover. This would be uncomfortably dangerous.  
One breath later, I had turned far enough to finally see the stranger. 'A voidling,' it shot through my head. His human body was largely covered by an unnatural, almost black chitinous skin. His eyes glowed in cold white and purple. A symbiont. A human who somehow survived the Void, just like Kai'Sa, whom I had met ages ago in a remote valley in Shurima. However, unlike her, his body did not seem to have become a weapon, for he was pointing a massive bow at me. But he had not yet taken up an arrow. My fight-or-flight instinct quickly settled for combat. I bent my left knee and at the same time pushed an arrow on my bow.  
“Give way, Voidling!” I challenged him. The tip of my arrow pointed to his stomach, where I suspected his weakest point. My body was tense to the last tendon, ready to jump.  
The stranger dropped his bow for a moment as he tilted his head back to express a hoarse laugh.  
"We're not a Voidling, Noxian," he mocked. His expression returned to cold hostility and he raised his weapon again. His free hand made a smooth movement as if he were putting an arrow on the bowstring. But there was no bowstring, as I noticed just now - and no arrow. A red glowing energy beam formed out of thin air and took its place as a deadly projectile, crackling and purring, eager to pierce my heart. But the stranger did not let it fly yet. I straightened up and lowered my bow.  
"I'm neither from Noxus nor on their side," I said in a firm voice. Maybe I could talk myself out of this, and I tried to appear calm and self-confident. But my heart pounded hard against my chest, it hurt.  
The stranger approached me slowly. "A human, that is enough." His magic arrow was still aimed at me. With every step he took, my last fate was closing in. But I noticed something. His determination was fading. The arm holding the angry, vibrating bow trembled imperceptibly, and a shadow crossed his face. I took a step or two back, but continued to look him straight in the eye. Seconds tore like sand in an hourglass.  
A strand of his long white hair fell over his face as he straightened with a sudden jerk. The glowing arrow disappeared and he lowered his bow. The huge weapon shortened briskly. He turned away with a contemptuous look and disappeared as swiftly as he had appeared.  
Relieved, I leaned against one of the tree trunks behind me. I laid my hand on my chest, releasing the tension in it through a few deep breaths. Sweat ran down my spine. Finally I turned around and began jogging. Fast, but careful. This day did not need any more unpleasant surprises.

It was late in the afternoon when I finally found a safe place to sleep in the middle of a formation of jagged rocks. On the way I had gathered fruit and berries when passing them, so my meal at least was secured. When it was getting dark, I snuggled into my sleeping bag. I had prepared a bed of twigs, leaves, and moss under a small ledge, as I always did. I listened to the sounds of the night, rustling leaves and occasional animal sounds, and my thoughts returned to today's encounter. I wondered what I had seen. If he was not a voidling, as he had claimed, then what was he? He was not a magician, not with that kind of weapon. But I clearly remembered the eerie power he had radiated. A threat in itself, an invisible outgrowth of his corruption and death-seeking spirit. Was he a demon? I was not sure, because if this was the case, I should be very dead right now. Demons did not pardon anyone, they never let go of their prey unless they were fought hard. The stranger had too many human traits too. A half-being, perhaps, but I had never heard of such a hybrid, human and demon. A symbiosis presupposed that both - or all - partners kept each other alive. However, a demon had such an unruly power that a human being would inevitably have to break if ever a connection with a demon was attempted.  
I sighed silently and decided to keep the matter to myself. Who knew what kinds of strange beings were born or sheltered by this wilderness? Already half asleep, I reminisced about the curious and outlandish creatures I had seen in Noxus, in the woods of Ionia, and in Shurima. Even a half-demon began to seem a possible thing to me now.


	2. Battlefield

Three days had passed since my encounter with the non-Voidling. I had altered my course and went more north now since I wanted to avoid Demacia. The landscape remained the same.  
I had only been traveling for two hours when I heard something from far away, something differing from the usual ambient sounds of nature. Due to the distance, I could not really classify it, it sounded like a rushing noise and crackle, but too choppy to originate from just the wind in the trees. Maybe a rockfall, maybe something else. My natural curiosity made me adjust the direction to see what there was to see.  
After about half an hour I had obviously found what I was looking for. Two freshly broken trees blocked my way. They still groaned softly under the tension, and the smell of fresh wood was in the air. I climbed under the tree trunks, and what I found was no less than a battlefield. Numerous trees were bent and broken or lay on the ground uprooted. Everything was covered in unnatural tendrils. Some of them were as thick as my arms. Above the clearing hung the smell of wood, mold and sap. I groped cautiously further through the mess. Then I spied a lifeless body between logs, half sunken in tendrils. It was a plant being, albeit with human features. I approached carefully. The creature had to be the creator of the tendrils, which covered everything, as well as the destruction all around. There must have been a fight. The dead sentinel's green skin was torn in several places by wounds, dripping with a thick, dark juice. Three silver crossbow bolts stuck deep in his body. I carefully stroked the head of the dead plant being and wished him a good transition to the hereafter.  
As I straightened up, I saw another body on the far side of the young clearing. I remained cautious and approached him slowly. This one was still alive, if only just so. He leaned against a large rock covered in moss and ferns, his body limp and slumped. I was just two steps away when I unexpectedly recognized him. It was the half-human, my attacker from three days ago. I backed away. But he did not move. His massive bow lay on his left on the ground. It looked like he had been trying to cling to it, but it had finally slipped away from him. The weapon gave off a cold, fading glow. I noticed a deep fissure that ran like a crack in a rock through half the length of the arch.   
My eyes wandered to the stranger. His eyes were half open, but they were unfocused. The demonic glow that I vividly remembered was a diminished to just a pale glow. Remains of plant tendrils were wrapped around his arms and legs. His body was smeared with blood. Several silver bolts - the same ones that killed the plant being - were rammed into his flesh, many of them half-broken. I quickly realized what the deadly shot had been though. The only armor he wore was a round plate that protected a spot above his heart. A silver bolt, bigger than the others, stuck deep inside. The protective surface was shattered, and a faintly glowing, swirling smoke dripped from the wound. His breath was faint.  
I knelt down next to him and ran my fingertips over his battered body. His human half was of absurd perfection. I withdrew my hand slightly irritated. A movement between the trees made me look up. There were Kindred. But I was not afraid. I had met death many times, and with it lamb and wolf. Even if the day came they’d appear for the sake of me, I received them with open arms and a smile. But today was not that day.   
Lamb jumped up next to me with a weightless leap and leaned forward to brush the half-man's sweat-stained hair out of his face. Then she turned to me.   
"We do not want it." She tilted her head. "It's not time yet."  
She gently stroked my hand while Wolf sniffed my hair. Then, with a breeze and a soft rustle, both vanished.   
"I should let you die anyway," I said to the stranger. I did not know who he was, where he came from, or what his goal was. But he was dangerous. After all, he had aimed his weapon at me mere days ago.  
Despite better knowledge, my heart still wanted to save him from death. I enclosed the big silver bolt which had almost sealed its fate, with my left hand. Promptly the man's right hand shot up and grabbed my wrist to stop me from pulling the bolt. His eyes, suddenly come back to life, glared at me. But he was too weak to stop me. With a determined jerk I tore the bolt from his flesh. His body bucked and he pushed me over. I scrambled to my feet again and saw a glare and glowing steam pouring out of the wound. Swiftly I pressed my hand on it. It burned. I directed my magic into the palm of my hand to keep the demonic life energy from continuing to flow out of his body. Light yellow glowing lines and runes began to appear and flowed in spirals around my arm and my hand. I could feel the strain making me break into a sweat.  
The stranger hissed at me and his eyes glowed with hate. He enclosed my neck with his clawed fingers. Slowly he squeezed harder, but I did not think to let go of him. His unwillingness to be saved by me only spurred me on to do just that. He began to summon dark tendrils that wrapped around my body and tied me up. He was amazingly strong in the face of his severe wounds. I could barely breathe and my teeth clenched hard.  
Then it was over. My spell was cast and remained visible in the form of several pale glowing rune circles, which sealed the wound. I snatched away from the stranger's grip and he sank back against the rock. The black shackles broke up. I scrambled to my feet and shot him an angry look as I rubbed my aching neck. Then I trudged off. Not that I wanted to leave him behind, no. Since I had already saved his life, I not only wanted to care for his other wounds, but also to find out more about him. But I did not want to stay here. The air was too stuffy, the earth too moldy. I also needed fresh water. So I went in search. Determined, I circled the rock and then followed my instinct.   
Barely five minutes later, I found a sheltered spot, next to a small brook. A handful of rocks and stones encased a green patch of grass. The trees were standing much lighter here too. That was perfect, and I turned back at once.   
When I reached the battle site, I saw that the half-man was on his feet. He leaned heavily on his bow and clung to the rock with his other hand. As soon as he saw me, he frowned angrily. He still did not like me. I sighed silently and went to him.  
"You will not get far alone," I told him. He snorted contemptuously, but he did not say a word. Nevertheless, I took his arm and put it around my shoulder to support him. He did not have the strength to defend himself anyway, so he finally gave up his resistance. At a snail's pace we moved to the campsite, which I had found.   
Once there, I placed him on the lush lawn, leaning his back against a rock warmed by the sun. He groaned softly. I pulled out my knife and freed his arms and legs from the last remains of plant tendrils. Then I went to the little stream, filled my canteen with fresh water and moistened a cloth. I returned to the stranger and knelt beside him. First, I offered him a drink, which he gratefully accepted. I locked the flask and put it away. I carefully pulled the crown he was wearing from his white hair. The stone set in it at the front sparkled red in the sunlight. Under the crown, previously hidden, an equally red mark appeared on his skin. I mentally put it behind all the other questions that had accumulated and that I would hopefully be able to ask him someday. I set the crown aside and began to wipe sweat, blood and grime from his face using the damp cloth. He bared his teeth unwillingly, but he let me go on.   
When I finished, I went back to the brook to wash the cloth and think for a moment. I had to remove the remaining crossbow bolts from his body. This only worked when he was lying on his back, but I did not want him to lie on the bare ground. His wounds did not bleed anymore, so I had some time. I decided to build him a bed first.   
I got up and left without explanation to collect twigs, leaves and moss. I was sure he would not move anymore.  
Although I hurried, it took me over an hour to prepare everything. I had found comfrey on the way, a strong herb used to treat wounds. So I also set up and lit a small campfire to make an infusion.   
All this seemed to pass unnoticed by the stranger. He sat motionless against the rocks, staring at the earth. But it seemed to me that his breathing was getting heavier. He needed to rest properly.  
"All right," I said, more to myself than to him, when I stepped next to him. The bed was ready, and I had even rolled out my sleeping bag and spread it over it, though I was sure I would regret my generosity during the cool night.   
"It's just a step." I pointed to the camp, which I had set up right next to him. "But I need some help."   
He raised his head and looked at me, but his face remained blank. The glow of his eyes was almost gone. Nevertheless, his hand groped on the rock, and I hurried to support him on the opposite side. I felt his weight heavy on my shoulder. But we made it. He stifled a groan as I laid him on the bed. I took off his chest belt and red scarf. I wrapped the scarf in a ball and slipped it under his head as a pillow. Then I hurried to bring the small pan with the comfrey infusion and adjusted my stock of cotton towels next to me. Now I had to tackle the ugly part. I grabbed the first silverbolt on the shaft and pulled hard. The stranger grimaced in pain, his fingers clawing at the ground, but he did not move. Immediately I pressed a towel soaked with infusion on the wound. I held it until hardly any blood leaked from the wound. Only then did I continue with the next bolt, and then the next, and so on.There were six of them in the end, and it was late afternoon when I was done. My fingers were bloodied and hurt. But I would be worth the effort. The stranger would recover from his injuries. Now that his pain finally subsided, he was slowly dimming away. His chest rose and fell quietly.  
I got up and went to the little brook to wash my encrusted hands, unaware that I had saved more than one life today.


	3. Roe Deer

I had a weird dream. I stood between tall, slender trees. Sunbeams broke through the leafy canopy and dipped everything around me in a golden glowing light. In front of me, less than twenty steps away, stood a roe deer, a doe. I wanted to kill her and lifted my bow. Arrow after arrow left my bowstring with a soft whir, but I missed every single shot. The deer came towards me, her dark eyes mocking me, and arrow after arrow flew past her. Suddenly she screeched eerily. Everything got black around us. She jumped at me, but only to slowly freeze mid air. Her body was getting longer and thinner, until she finally turned into a glistening red arrow in front of my eyes. It shrieked and crackled, hardly containing the raging energy it bore. Its tip was aiming at a spot between my eyes, floating a mere hand's breadth from my face. It was dripping with blood, red streams seeping from the shaft, trickling from the tip. The arrow dissolved in a waterfall of blood. I started floating up in the air, along with the trees. Small lights danced around me. I rose faster than the trees, and when I left their tops behind me, I could see the sun disk of Shurima in the distance. A blinding beam of light hit me, and I fell, deeper and deeper, and I knew I was going to crash on the ground.  
I woke up with a violent jerk.  
I hated being snapped from sleep like that and buried my face in my hands, until I finally opened my eyes, blinking with reluctance. It was bright daylight, sunbeams danced on the damp ground, broken by foliage and branches and dewdrops. Birds chirped cheerfully.  
The leaves I lay on rustled as I scrambled to my feet. To my own surprise I had found the energy to build a bed for myself too the other day, and I still wouldn‘t stop at that. I had also used a bunch of thick straight branches and reed bundles to build a small shelter, leaning against the rocks and offering some basic protection.  
Instinctively I reached for my bow and quiver now, and crawled out from under the thatched roof. I frowned. The stranger - he was gone. I must have been unusually fast asleep, allowing him to sneak away without me waking up. Life in the wild had given me a very light sleep, ready to be awake and ready to defend at any sign of danger, so that was alarming.  
Grumpily, I searched the entire campsite. All his belongings were gone - as was my canteen. So, after all the effort I had put into saving him from death, I would not even know who or what he was - and I would continue my journey constantly thirsty until I could get a new canteen at the next larger settlement. I dropped to the ground. Remaining upset and angry wouldn‘t help me now either. I got rid of my boots and stockings, then took off my leather chestpiece, my shirt and my belts. I went over to the little stream and washed extensively. The cold water was wonderfully invigorating and it glittered like jewels in the sunlight. It finally got me rid of the last bit of fatigue.  
I had just pulled my shirt over again when a rustling from the other side of the clearing made me look up. Someone stepped from the undergrowth. In a split second I realized it was him, the half-man. I was surprised. Not so much about his return, but rather about his transformation. His stride was smooth and springy, his body showing no signs of tiredness or pain. The inhuman eyes shone and gleamed brightly. The lifeless body of a roe deer was flung over his shoulder. His appearance was almost supernatural. The air vibrated with his immense presence. I was mesmerised.  
He came right up to me and let the game loot slide to the ground in front of my feet. "We got some food," he explained. "This body needs nourishment. And so do you, human." He pointed at himself first, then at me, while he wrinkled his nose disapprovingly. Then he turned away and walked over to the brook. My stomach growled softly, as if to confirm his words.  
"My name‘s Neru," I called after him. One of the fake names I used from time to time. I was sure it was smarter to give away as little information about myself as possible.  
He just made a growl as he began to wash his hands and arms.  
I stepped next to him. "And who are you?" I asked. He was not talkative to be sure.  
He paused reluctantly and seemed to think for a moment. Then he straightened up to his full height - he towered over me almost a head high. When he turned I could see that the wounds in his upper body were still visible, but the healing was already well advanced. Then he dramatically spread his arms. "We are the three in one. The one of three." A smile played around his lips and his eyes flashed. "We are Varus."  
I tried to understand what he meant by that. After all, I now knew why he spoke of himself in plural. But was it a metaphor? Or did he mean it ... literally? I followed him as he picked up his bow and walked back to the spot where the dead body of the deer was still lying on the ground. "The three in one?" I asked. He did not respond. "Who are these three?" I caught up with him. "Where are they from?" I started to circle around him. "Where are they going?"  
He turned to me and gripped my chin with his claws. "You ask a lot of questions, human." His chitinous skin was cold and slightly damp, but I could also feel the pulsing warmth of his unruly inner energy, or magic.  
"Neru," I corrected him defiantly. He let go of me and I crossed my arms over my chest. "I saved your life." That was my ultimate argument to emphasize my right to more background knowledge.  
He laughed. "And we could have killed you three times already."  
I frowned. "Once," I corrected him. The unfortunate meeting four days ago was the only event that came to my mind.  
"And yesterday." He made a threatening gesture in front of me. "And this morning." Again, the corners of his mouth twitched mockingly and his voice dripped with mischievous scorn. "You have a very deep sleep, human."  
I swallowed. An uneasy feeling spread in my stomach. Was I becoming such easy prey? A mockery of the survival skills I believed to possess? I pushed the thought aside. "You did not do it," I countered instead. He turned away with a barely audible snort. His bow was flashing in the sunlight. I remembered that the weapon had been damaged yesterday, and a quick glance confirmed that it was still cracked. "Maybe it's because you can not use your bow anymore," I taunted. I was determined to win this battle of words. But he disagreed - especially as far as the nature of the battle was concerned. He was so fast that I could not perceive his movement. Suddenly I found myself with his bow and a blood red arrow aimed directly at my face again. The weapon shook angrily, the arrow glowed and hummed, I could feel its heat. Varus' face was hateful, and for a moment I really thought he would let go.  
"My bow is still working well enough to kill an insignificant creature like you ten times or more," he hissed.  
But I did not back away nor did I show any fear, even though my pulse was racing. I looked him straight in the eye. For a few seconds we stared at each other.  
Then he finally lowered the bow, and the arrow disappeared. "You are either very brave - or very stupid," he stated. A hint of respect swung in his voice.  
I watched him slowly move away. "I'm not afraid of you," I said firmly.  
"You should be." He bared his teeth.  
"You had the opportunity to kill me four times now." I had decided to give him that number for the time being. "But you did not."  
He looked at me coldly, but he said nothing. Instead, he dropped the bow and crouched beside the dead deer. He ran his hand over the shiny coat of the animal.  
"Wait, I'll do it." I stepped next to him.  
He straightened up again. I could see that all hostility had fallen from him as suddenly as it had come.  
"Then we will prepare the hearth," he declared.  
I nodded in agreement and went to work. First I pulled the deer over to the creek to be right next to fresh water. Then I took my hunting knife, and started to gut the animal. I found no arrowmark nor any other wound on the body and I seriously wondered how Varus had killed the roe. But I decided not to ask him any more questions for the time being. I peered at him under my hair. He started building a rectangle of big stones. I was probably wrong, but it looked like he was talking to himself.  
The sun warmed my back while I kept working. I threw the innards on a pile. We had no use for it, but some predator would soon take care of it. The skinning took more time. I was very focused, my thoughts barely digressed. The work was routine, as was the smell of blood and raw meat in my nose. Nevertheless, I admired the beauty of the animal. The coat was flawless and I was sad that I would not be able to keep it.  
"Strangled."  
Startled I looked up. Varus had silently approached me and now sat down across from me, legs crossed, where the grass was not yet soaked in blood.  
"You were wondering how we killed the animal. Strangled," he explained. His voice was changed, softer, friendlier. He gestured gracefully with his hand, conjuring the same dark tendrils he had tied me with the day before. Now he let the black bands float through the air artfully, and formed squiggly figures. I watched in fascination and instinctively raised my hand to touch them. One of the tendrils playfully twisted around my fingers and then wrapped around my forearm in a perfect spiral. It felt like smoothest silk. Varus watched in amusement as he continued to direct their movements. "Our tendrils of corruption. They poison everything they touch." I was startled and gasped, but he only curled his lips in amusement. "Only if we want it."  
The tendril withdrew from my arm and only lightly touched my fingertips. Then it changed, it began to glow dark-purple. It suddenly burned like stinging nettles on my skin. Immediately, I pulled my hand away.  
Varus laughed. Then he let the tendrils hover over our heads and I watched them slowly dissolve.  
"You can read minds, too?" I asked him, remembering how he had answered a question of mine without me even uttering it.  
He shook his head. "No we can not. But we can observe.“ He pointed at the deer. "We saw you scan the animal's body for wounds."  
"Oh." I was kind of relieved.  
Then I returned to my work. Cut by cut, I severed the animal's skin from the flesh, trying to ignore Varus watching me.  
When I was done I removed the animal‘s head and feet, and Varus helped me to wash the meat at the stream. Then we finally speared the deer on a long branch that he had prepared, and hung it over the blazing fire. Varus sat down on a flattened stone next to the longer end of the skewer, and thus tacitly took over the task of turning the skewer regularly. I cleaned and dried my hatchet and knife before sitting down by the fire as well. Soon it would be noon and the sun had climbed over the treetops, but it stayed somewhat chilly. The smell of burnt wood and roasted meat began to fill the air. Varus sat cross-legged on his stone and stared into the flames. His eyes had almost lost their inhuman glow. I decided to start another try to get more out of him.  
"If you're so powerful," I began casually, "how did you end up being so badly injured yesterday?" I peered at him cautiously, trying to put on a neutral countenance, as if I'd asked him about the weather and not addressed a potentially sore point. He looked at me and knit his eyebrows.  
"It was an unpleasant coincidence." His voice was coarse and upset. "This plant being attacked us. That alone wouldn’t have been of any concern, but then this woman appeared." He snorted contemptuously. "She was good. Very good. The plant twines hindered us, we could not dodge. She flung us against a rock. And her bolts..." He shook his head.  
"Silverbolts," I said.  
He grimaced. "They are poison for us. If you didn‘t..."  
He stopped talking, but for the first time ever, I could sense that he was truly thankful that I had saved his life.  
"How could you recover so quickly?" I asked.  
He ran his hand over his chest. "This meat is so readily influenceable. Freed from the crippling poison, it was easy to close the wounds."  
It irritated me that he spoke of his body as if it were not his own. I stifled the urge to ask him once more what he was. Even though he had become more talkative, I did not hope to get a direct answer to this question.  
"And your bow?" I asked instead.  
He gave the weapon a sad look. "If we get hurt, the bow gets hurt. It will heal, only slower."  
A thought occurred to me. "May I try something?"  
He raised an eyebrow, but he said nothing. For me that was as good as a consent. I got up and knelt beside the bow. It emitted a faint, pulsating glow.  
"What are you going to do?" Varus asked sharply, but I did not let myself be distracted from my intention. I funneled my magic in my fingertips and held them very close to the surface of the weapon where it had been sundered. I could feel the pulsing energy of the bow and moved my fingers along the crack. Thin, yellow runic lines appeared between the gaping edges of the wound. Varus had jumped up and towered over me menacingly, but he did not hold me back. I tried to close the crack, but it seemed like the bow would fight back. Only parts of my spell stuck. I finally had to give up my efforts. Almost casually, I touched the surface of the weapon with my fingertips. Immediately I was thrown away by an explosion of pure energy. I found myself lying on my back in the grass, and sat up with an effort. Varus had taken the bow and gave me a gloomy look. I felt my skin still tingling softly where it had touched the bow. My fingertips had turned black.  
My heart pounded against my chest. The weapon. It was not just filled with magic, it was alive. And it was a dark and destructive being. Stories came to my mind, ancient legends so old that they were barely told anymore. Stories of powerful weapons and the demons who lived within, and destroyed everything that touched them.  
I almost became dizzy. That was impossible. They were all defeated and imprisoned. Although they could never be completely destroyed, they no longer walked on Runeterra and had not done so for countless generations.  
But it still had to be just like that. Suddenly everything made sense, his power, his presence - the partial corruption of his body.  
"Your bow." My voice was coarse and rough. Varus slightly turned his head. I felt a tightness in my chest. "Your bow is a Darkin," I stuttered. The old, dark word barely wanted to pass my lips.  
Varus turned and came up to me. He suddenly seemed even bigger, even prouder and more beautiful. His eyes sparkled brightly. And he laughed softly.  
"No." He stopped, shook his head, and laid his free hand on his chest. "We are the Darkin."


	4. Revealings

Why was I still alive? _Why was I still alive_? The thought pierced my brain like a sharp splinter of brackern crystal. _He was a darkin_. My ears were buzzing, I couldn‘t breathe properly. My body was paralyzed, I sat there in the grass and watched helplessly, as Varus swiftly closed in. For the first time I was truly scared. He would finally do it, he would kill me. I shouldn‘t have touched the bow.  
But instead of raising his weapon against me, he reached out his hand. I stared at him. My chest was still tight, I was holding my breath. But then, without deliberately making the decision, I seized his hand.  
He pulled me to my feet, I swayed and he grabbed me by the shoulder. The touch felt alien and wrong. I still couldn‘t take my eyes off him, shocked and perplexed by the revelation of what he was.  
"Why?" I finally asked, trying to force my voice to sound normal, but it was no more than a faint whisper.  
Varus tipped his head. "Why what?"  
"Why am I still alive?" This time I at least managed to give my voice a hint of sound.  
He let go of me and wrinkled his nose. "Life for life."  
"And before that?" I breathed, remembering our first meeting a few days ago.  
Varus clenched his jaw, unwilling to explain himself. But he spoke nevertheless.  
"Parts of us disapprove of the killing, especially if the enemy is defenseless or unarmed. It throws them into turmoil. It is not worth the effort. You had lowered your bow. "  
I tried to understand what he was explaining. But my head was still buzzing and my body was shaking slightly. Varus noticed it nonetheless.  
"We will not hurt you." He shook his head slightly and gestured at himself. "You saved this body."  
I swallowed. To what extent could a darkin ever be trusted? But on the other hand, he‘d had various opportunities to hurt me, and always let them pass unused. I decided to take heart, to be brave, encouraged me. My fear subsided slowly, the trembling disappeared.  
"Show us your hand," Varus said.  
I looked up at him in surprise. Somewhat insecure, I raised the hand I had touched his bow with. He took it and turned my palm up to inspect my blackened fingertips. I realized that they were still tingling slightly. Varus ran his thumb over the dark spot.  
"Interesting," he mumbled.  
I looked at our hands and noticed that my fingertips looked exactly like Varus' armored skin. I shivered.  
He let go of my hand, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "You would better not touch our bow again."  
Not that I intended to do so. I nodded.  
Varus turned away and went back to the fireplace, and I followed him. He laid his bow down and eyed our deer roast. Then he grabbed one of the forelegs and effortlessly tore it out of the joint.  
"The meat is not cooked yet," I stammered irritated.  
He scowled at me, then he bit into the leg anyway. The meat was still mostly raw, the bone bloody. I grimaced.  
He swallowed and pulled his brows together. "We have not eaten for days. We will not wait any longer." Then he took another bite.  
Disgusted, I turned away and sat down by the fire. I was very hungry myself but I would have to wait. I grumpily poked the embers, and then put more wood into the fire.  
Time to think.  
So I had found a darkin. I did not know much about them, but the few stories I heard a long time ago were disturbing enough. At the height of their power, they had desolated whole countries. So the legends told. They were said to be most powerful, indomitable creatures. In my imagination, they had been monstrous demons with flaming eyes and black skin, and never-ending thirst for blood. Varus looked different. Sure, he was tall and strong, but on a human scale still. So much was human about him. And then the realization hit me like lightning. _We are the three in one. Parts of us disagree with the killing_. I violently turned to him and he looked up in surprise.  
"You have merged with a human!"  
Varus laughed wickedly. "With two, actually."  
I did not even want to mull over how that was possible. "They had to die, and even worse, you still abuse them in their death."  
"They are not dead." He curled his lips. "Did not you listen? _We are the three in one_. "  
"You‘re holding human souls prisoners and hostage of your will in that body," I whispered in shock and dismay.  
Varus jumped up, he was suddenly very angry. "They came to _me_. They released me from my prison and I took the opportunity. Do you know what it is like to be trapped? Do you know for _how long_ I have been held hostage by a treacherous spell? "  
I assumed it was a rhetorical question and said nothing. Varus was towering over me.  
"How long has it been since you mortals wiped us from the face of Runeterra with cheap tricks and magic?"  
I swallowed and tried to remember when the Dark Wars had ended.  
"Three thousand years, maybe?" I hated how small I sounded.  
Varus pointed angrily at me. His voice was wild and dark. "Three thousand years. Three thousand years imprisoned, without a body, fully conscious. No sleep. No rest. No way out.“ He laughed contemptuously. "What is a human life in comparison."  
There was nothing I could say to that. What he described was way outside my imagination. But I would by no means agree with him and dismiss the enslavement of two human souls as excusable. What tortures did they have to suffer?  
Varus was visibly upset. When I didn‘t answer, he grunted angrily one last time, then he took his bow and left without another word. Seconds later he had vanished into the thicket.

Four days later I still hadn‘t moved on. I had wanted to reach the Freljord before the first fresh snow, and now I was not even sure if I still wanted to go there anymore. A strange feeling had taken hold of me, and I did not know if it was homesickness.  
Besides, Varus had not returned, and it bothered me. Naturally I tried to convince myself that I did not care. But he had left me with so many questions unanswered. The more I thought about him, the more my disgust over his homicidal nature made room for new feelings. It went so far that I almost felt compassion for the demon. The captivity he had described must have been unimaginable agony. I finally realized why he showed such gratitude to me - enough not only to spare my life, but even to build a kind of relationship, to look at me as equal: that body, the raw flesh and blood that I saved from death meant everything to him. If I had just left him to die in these woods, the darkin would have been a prisoner again, a mind without a body, a consciousness without life. A terrible fate..  
But what occupied me most was the compassion for the two human souls that he held captive. I could not imagine that they were really alive, and I wanted to know more about them. Maybe even help them somehow.  
All this, the homesickness, the strange emptiness that Varus had left behind, a little defiance, too, so all this kept me from leaving the campsite, and so I stayed. I had scouted the area and extended the shelter a bit. At some point I also had to remove all the remains of the roe deer a good deal so as to not unnecessarily attract predators. I had enjoyed the sun and taken a long bath in the creek. Most of the time, however, I had sat next to the water, leaning against a tree and pondering, or flicking pebbles into the water.  
Now the morning of the fourth day had dawned and I just woke up. Raindrops pattered and rippled softly on the thatched roof and the nearby stones. I opened my eyes, stretched and yawned - and startled. Varus lay on the bed next to me and slept. He had his back turned towards me. His long hair was no longer tied together, it was tangled and messy. His skin was covered in the dried-up blood stains. His body rose and fell under calm breaths.  
It was disturbing to think about what he had done - and also that he had once again managed to sneak up on me without me waking up. I sat up. Leaves rustled. Varus woke up immediately and slowly turned on his back. He wore neither the tiara nor the scarf and chest strap. Blinking, he opened his eyes.  
"How many?" I asked dully. "How many did you kill?"  
He straightened up and growled. "Not enough."  
"How are the men in you?"  
"They are in turmoil." He shot me a look that was probably supposed to be angry, but instead he seemed desperate .  
"Who are they?" I asked after a pause. I tried to put as much sincerity into my voice as I could.  
He pulled a few strands of hair from his face and sighed. "Their names are Valmar and Kai. They are two hunters from Ionia. Strong, smart men."  
"Ionia?"  
A shadow crossed his face. "The prison the mortals once found for the immortal self of a darkin was a well in a temple, in Pallas. Naturally permeated by strong magic and sealed by the sacrifice of the warrior who had broken Varus, the old Varus. One day the bow that should never have been found deep in the well was awakened. Kai and Val had plunged down into the depths."  
"Why?"  
"Kai had been fatally wounded in a Noxian attack. Val could not stand the idea of a life without Kai and was ready to do anything to save him. Had he known what was really hidden at the bottom of the well, he would probably have acted differently. But he only knew that the dark water possessed magical powers, and hoped that somehow they would rescue Kai.“ He pulled his fingers through his hair and smiled. "And in a way, he saved him, right? Kai is still alive."  
I was aghast and shaken. "I do not know if you can call this life." I shook my head.  
"You sound exactly like Kai."  
I blinked in surprise. "Does that mean Kai and Val and the Darkin can talk? In your head?"  
Varus sighed. "It's annoying at times."  
"And only the darkin is talking to the outside?"  
"At the moment. He has the upper hand. "  
I knew it was not true. The darkin would think so, but I now realized that the changes in Varus' behavior, his voice, even in his eyes, were nothing but Kai and Val, who at times were able to repress the deep hatred of the Darkin with their humanity and kindness. Even the story he had just told me. Nothing a darkin would tell. At least not in this version.  
We were silent until I finally asked my last question. "Why did you come back?"  
Varus stared at me. But instead of answering, he turned away and crawled out from under the roof. He stepped out into the rain and I watched him head for the nearby creek. I decided to stay under the shelter even though his reasons really interested me. To keep me busy, I went through all my stuff and checked that everything was in good shape. Unfortunately, that was a rather short affair, so at some point I started to pull individual stalks from the reeds above my head and weave them into ribbons.  
After the fifth completed band, I decided to check on Varus. It was still raining and I threw my cloak over my shoulders. I found Varus sitting on a big stone right by the stream. His feet dangled in the water, the wet hair stuck to his body. The blood stains were washed away.  
When I stepped up next to him and looked at him, I was pretty sure that the rain was not the only thing that wet his face. I refrained from reacting to it. Instead, I decided to point out the obvious.  
"Are not you completely soaked?"  
Varus turned to me and spread his arms, and he laughed.  
I suddenly had to laugh too. I recognized the silliness of my remark, because, of course, he wore no clothes. There was nothing that could be soaked. The rain bothered him as little as the wolf or the deer, or any other wild animal. But now I also became very uncomfortably aware that he was basically sitting in front of me _naked_ , even though I very well knew that the darkin‘s body possessed nothing which would cause the typical human feelings of shame. Still, I had to concentrate on keeping my eyes level with his shoulders. My gaze fell on the deep, pale glowing wound right above his heart. "What's up with that?" I pointed to it, glad for the distraction. My curiosity was back.  
Varus, who had started combing through his hair with his claws, paused. He lowered his arms. His expression was serious. "An arrow wound. An artifact. A remnant of when we created this body. Unfortunately, we were unable to remove this blemish."  
He looked frustrated and a little angry, and I understood why. As the big silver bolt had shown it was a weak spot. Probably his only one.  
I felt an urge to touch the strange wound and reached out. But he fended me off.  
"You really want to touch everything," he mocked.  
I promptly ran my thumb over the blackened, keratinized fingertips of my left hand. "Curiosity," I mumbled embarrassed.  
Varus frowned, but then he took a surprising step. "Well. Just do it.“ He got up in front of me. My heart beat faster when I touched him. I touched the edge of the wound first. His skin felt normal, human. Cracked by deep scars, and wet by the rain, which was still pouring down on us. Then my fingers wandered to the deep, glowing pit that gaped in his chest, and I felt ... nothing. Only emptiness. My hand jerked back immediately. I looked up. Varus seemed highly amused.  
"Why did you come back?" I abruptly asked, following a sudden impulse.  
Varus' smile widened a bit. "Why are _you_ still here?" It sounded almost mocking, and I actually felt caught.  
"Well, I ... wanted to go north, but ..." I intended to make my statement as credible and sober as possible, and failed terrifically. "But I think I'll change my plans and go back home to Shurima."  
"Shurima!" Varus exclaimed immediately. "You're from Shurima?"  
I was a little confused. "Well ... yes." I hoped I would not regret that this information had slipped.  
Varus grabbed my wrist. "Can you bring us to Shurima?" He asked urgently. And then he said the word which probably in five thousand years of history no darkin had ever addressed to a mortal.  
"Please."


End file.
